A Boy By Any Other Name
by NiffAreForever
Summary: The city of Verona is divided in the ongoing feud between the Sterlings and the Duvals, but can the love of two boys unite their families and change their world for the better? Romeo and Juliet!Niff AU prompt for magiclover222
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my oneshot for ****_magiclover222_**** - and I'm anticipating two more parts, so it is no longer a oneshot, but instead a threeshot :)**

**Warnings: It is based very heavily on Romeo and Juliet, therefore this comes with the warnings of major character death by suicide and other means, and ridiculously fast falling in love - plus some very confused attitudes to homosexuality (sometimes it appears accepted, other times it doesn't!)**

**Please also note that, in this version, Thad and Sebastian's characters are not related, as they would be in the play, because otherwise the story would become rather awkward...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and I do not own Romeo and Juliet.**

* * *

The streets of Verona that morning were unusually quiet, almost disturbingly so, and anyone who looked out over the city that day shook their heads and sighed; the silence spoke of an impending event that might strike them at any moment.

There was undeniable tension in the air that day, even more so than usual, due to the endless feud between the two most influential families of the city; the Sterlings and the Duvals. They'd been enemies for as long as anyone could remember, but no could remember how the animosity had begun, not even the families themselves really knew; it was just something that had always been there.

Suddenly, the stillness in the air was broken by the sound of footsteps over the cobbles, there were two men approaching the main square. Both were dressed in the rough tunics and breeches, while jackets were slung across their shoulders and swords hung from their belts; they were servants of the Duval family by the names of Puck and Sam.

They were talking aimlessly as they returned from an errand to the house of their master, when around the corner of the street came two more figures. The two newcomers were dressed in a similar fashion to Sam and Puck, but these men were Sterling servants, Kurt and Blaine.

"Look, Puck, here comes Kurt and Blaine," Sam leaned over to whisper to his companion, "Do you think they are looking for trouble?"

Puck barked out a short laugh.

"They're Sterling servants, they're always looking for trouble!" he said.

Across the street, Kurt and Blaine heard Puck's laughter, and immediately assumed that it was directed at them.

"Say, Puckerman," Blaine called out, "A jest at our expense?"

"No more than usual, Anderson," Puck retorted, "We wouldn't want to offend you now, would we?"

"It takes more than a petty insult from you to offend us," Kurt stepped in, "For you'd paint us as weaklings, wouldn't you?"

"Why waste the paint?" Sam laughed, "We know it already."

Blaine clenched his hands into fists by his side.

"Come, Sam," Puck said, noticing the other two men's discomfort. "We have better things to do at this time of day than to hang around gossiping."

"If anyone's a gossip, it would be you," Blaine said defiantly, "Draw your swords, men, if you have the courage to do so."

The four men drew their swords from their belts, and held them defensively in front of them.

"Have you not the strength or skill to use them?" Puck mocked, as neither Kurt nor Blaine made a move forwards.

"Wise men do not act hastily," Kurt shot back, before leaning over towards Blaine. "Here comes Wes, we have the advantage on our side now."

Blaine nodded once, before advancing on the two Duval servants with his sword in front of him. The two pairs fought for several minutes, until Wes took notice of them and came rushing over.

"Fools!" he cried, "Put up your swords, and stop this fighting in the street. It's meaningless violence for the sake of your prides, nothing more."

"I don't know, Wesley," the smooth voice of Hunter Clarington, the nephew of old Lord Duval, interrupted, "They seem to be doing something much more honourable than you."

Wes narrowed his eyes at the other man; Hunter was known for his fierce family pride, and a penchant for fighting.

"They are fools, fighting a fool's battle," the Sterling kinsman spoke calmly, "Help me stop them, or be on your way."

Hunter smirked and drew his own sword.

"I will not help a Sterling," he said, "For I despise you and your family. Draw your own sword, Wesley, and fight to retain what little pride you may still have."

Unwilling to appear reluctant to defend his family and himself in front of some of his servants, Wes drew his sword and faced Hunter.

As they fought, several men from both houses entered the street and took up arms against each other. The citizens of Verona leaned out of their windows, or peered from shop doorways to watch the scene unfold in front of them; while all of them wondered if this was the culmination of the tension that they'd been feeling beforehand, or whether there was something else to come for them.

The shouting from the two houses brought both Lord Duval and Lord Sterling into the streets as well, accompanied by their respective wives.

"Fetch my sword!" Lord Duval declared, hoping that someone in the vicinity would bring him what he wanted.

"What good is you getting involved?" Lady Duval asked, "Stay here and do not make a laughing stock of yourself out there."

Across the cobbles, Lady Sterling was almost physically restraining her husband from becoming involved.

"This is not your quarrel," she protested, but the older man was insistent.

"I may not have started this, but any fight between my kinsmen and the Duvals is my fight as well."

The uproar continued for several minutes more, until a sharp whistle cut the air and silence fell across the streets; the men dropped their swords or sheathed them, and the citizens retreated inside and closed their shutters.

"What is the meaning of this brawl in a public area?" Thad, the prince of Verona demanded of those around him as he dismounted from his horse.

He was met with silence from both sides.

"These fights are becoming far too regular," he continued regardless, "In a week, there have been three occurrences for a petty argument that no one remembers the foundations of, but still they continue to provoke the others for the sake of their own selfish pride." He paused to see that he had suitably reprimanded them for their actions, but no amount of empty words would deter them from fighting again. "Hereby, I declare that furthermore, any more fighting within these city streets will result in the instigators forfeiting with their lives." He clapped his hands together. "Now, everyone, go about your business."

The calm that had descended on everyone during Thad's speech dissipated in that instant and the street was once again full of shouted voices as a few last insults were hurled from both sides.

Eventually, however, only Lord Sterling and Wes were left alone on the cobbles.

"Wesley, my dear nephew, have you seen Jeffrey today?" Lord Sterling inquired about the whereabouts of his son. "I'm rather worried about him, he's been incredibly distant lately."

Wes gave his uncle a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure there's nothing amiss," he said, "Jeff's probably just got something on his mind; you know how he is sometimes."

Lord Sterling nodded.

"He's my only son," he said, "I worry about him a lot."

He nodded to Wes once more, and then disappeared back up the street in the direction of his house.

As soon as he was gone, however, Jeff himself rounded the corner at the opposite end of the street.

Jeff Sterling was taller than Wes, and he had the brightest blonde hair that Wes claimed to have ever seen on a person. He was Wes' younger cousin, barely older than seventeen, but he'd already made a name for himself, not just as the son and heir of Lord Sterling, but also as a slight troublemaker, if any of his previous escapades had proved anything.

He was usually excessively cheerful, and often appeared to possess more energy than one person could possibly ever need in their entire lifetime; but today, there was no extra spring in his step, and he seemed distinctly miserable.

"I say, Jeff, why the sad face?" Wes asked as his cousin came to a halt beside him, "Your father's been looking for you, where've you been?"

"I went for a walk," Jeff explained, but his thoughts appeared to be somewhere other than the conversation. "I wanted to clear my head a little; not that it happened."

"Something's on your mind," Wes said astutely, "I know you too well, and if you don't tell anyone, you'll let it get to you too much. So go on, out with it!"

"It's rather difficult to explain," Jeff said slowly, "For Wes, have you ever felt as though there's a part of you missing? As though you've misplaced an entire limb, and you cannot remember where you left it, no matter how long or hard you search for it."

Wes nodded.

"I understand," he said gently, "Jeff, I think you'll find that you are just feeling rather lonely. I suppose it was to be expected, really, for the only people you interact with regularly are me and Sebastian, and we've both been rather busy lately."

"It's something like that, I guess," Jeff said, "I feel like I'm missing out on something, but I can't work out what it is."

"Alright," Wes decided, "We'll have to organise a distraction for you, to take your mind off this issue. Now, if only I had an idea as to what we could do!"

* * *

"How old is your son now, Lord Duval?" the Earl of Lopez asked, as he and Lord Duval were walking side by side in the garden of the Duval house.

"He'll be seventeen in a fortnight," Lord Duval replied, "The same age as your daughter, if I am correct?"

"She has been seventeen for more than a month now," the Earl said, "And it is time that she was married, for she has denied all the suitors that I find for her up until now; she cannot refuse such a suit as that of your son."

Lord Duval nodded.

"They will make a good match," he agreed, "Although, let us not be too hasty in our decisions, for a betrothal may last for a year or two until Nicholas is a little older."

"Why wait so long?" the Earl asked, "Your son is mature for his age, and Santana needs to settle down as soon as possible. They could be married by the end of the month."

"But Nicholas is my only son," Lord Duval continued, "When all of my other children have died, I would not want to rush this union so that it falls foul of what it could have been. Allow them a time of courtship, a year at the most, let's say, and with an official betrothal after my son's birthday, your daughter may settle down and accept the marriage much easier."

"I certainly hope so," the Earl of Lopez said, "So, we shall organise a betrothal for the pair at the beginning of the next month. I shall, of course, provide half of Santana's dowry by then; the rest shall be given at the wedding itself."

The two men shook hands on their agreement.

"I propose a ball tonight," Lord Duval said, "Nicholas will, of course, be in attendance, and if you should wish to present Santana, then the two of them can meet."

"Very good," the Earl nodded, "You can expect us there tonight."

* * *

Wes and Jeff were heading back to the Sterling household, when they chanced upon a servant, holding a sheet of paper, but struggling mightily to read what had been written on it.

"Pray, good fellows," the servant cried, sounding relieved to see two evidently well-educated young men in front of him, "Can you read?"

"I can try," Jeff replied, "What is it that you are struggling with?"

"My master has given me a message to deliver to whoever is written here," the servant explained, "But I cannot deliver a message if I do not know who it is for."

"Here, I will read it for you," Jeff said, taking the offered sheet and holding it up. He effortlessly reeled off a meaningless list of names of the members of all the finest houses in the city of Verona. "Say, sir, is there something that these people are supposed to be attending?"

"A ball, at my master's house," the servant said.

"And your master?"

"I should have said, he is Lord Duval; and if you be not of the house of Sterling, then you should join us tonight," the servant nodded, "Thank you for your help. Good day."

The man turned on his heel and headed up the street in the direction of the first family on the list.

"Did you hear that?" Wes asked, once the servant was out of earshot.

"Hear what?" Jeff said, "It was nothing; he said we should attend if we were not of the house of Sterling, the last time I checked we both were, and therefore there is nothing to discuss."

"But Jeff," Wes insisted, "It will be a fine opportunity for you to forget about all of your worries and just have some fun! There'll probably be plenty of people there for you to admire, as well." He winked in such a completely un-Wes like way that it caught Jeff off guard.

"I, er, they'll all be Duvals," he protested, "There's no point!"

"You read that list, Jeff," Wes pointed out, "The majority of them were no relation at all. Come on, loosen up a little, won't you? You're usually up for this sort of thing."

Jeff shrugged.

"Maybe I'm just not feeling up to it, Wes," he said, but his cousin would not give up.

"Well, you've got three hours to make yourself up for it," Wes said, "Otherwise I will get Sebastian to forcibly drag you there."

* * *

"David, have you seen Nick?" Lady Duval asked, her head appearing around the door to Nick's set of rooms.

David Thompson, Nick's best friend and manservant was perched on the window seat reading a book just inside the door. He looked up at the sound of Nick's mother's voice.

"He should be around somewhere," David said, "He left a few moments ago because he wanted to take a walk in the gardens before dinner."

Lady Duval thought for a moment.

"Will he back soon? Or could you go and find him for me?"

"I could go, if you wanted," David said, "He won't have got far."

"Who won't have got far?" a new voice called from just outside in the corridor.

Lady Duval sighed in relief.

"Nicholas, dear," she said, "There you are."

"You were looking for me, Mother?" he asked, as he was ushered inside his rooms and the door was closed behind him.

"I was, dear," Lady Duval said, "I wanted to tell you about a very important decision that your father has made for you."

"Do sit down, your ladyship," David spoke suddenly, pulling up some chairs so that they could all sit.

"Thank you, David," Nick's mother said, "Now, where was I?"

"Father has decided something for me," Nick prompted, "You were about to tell me what it was."

"Of course, dear," Lady Duval nodded, "Your father met with the Earl of Lopez earlier today, and they came to an agreement for your betrothal to the Earl's daughter, the Lady Santana." She paused. "So, what are your views on marriage, my dear?"

Nick took a moment to register everything that had just been said, but eventually he composed himself.

"If Father deems this a suitable match," he said carefully, "Then I cannot refuse; it would be an honour to accept the Lady Santana's hand in marriage."

His words appeared to please his mother.

"Wonderful," she declared, "I knew that this would be a joyous occasion for you." She got up and headed for the door. "And Nicholas, you have two hours to prepare yourself; there is a ball tonight in your name, and the Lady Santana will be there for you to meet."

And with that message, she departed from the room, leaving Nick staring in disbelief at the empty chair which she had been sitting in moments ago.

"Nick," David tried to get his friend's attention, "Hey, Nick, snap out of it, will you?"

Nick jumped as the other boy flicked his fingers in front of his face.

"Sorry," he apologised, "I was just thinking about…"

"What your mother said, I know," David finished his sentence for him. "It's a lot to take in, I guess."

Nick turned to face his friend.

"What am I supposed to think?" he asked, "Marriage? I'm not even seventeen yet; I'm not ready to get married!"

"There are men that have been married earlier than you have," David reminded him.

"That's just it," Nick cried, "I'm not a man, am I? I'm just a boy still, and I don't want to marry some complete stranger, I want to…"

"Fall in love and marry the perfect person for you," David finished his sentence once again. "You're always saying that after reading those romance novels I find you."

Nick sighed.

"Am I wrong to want that, David?" he asked.

His friend shook his head.

"I don't think you're wrong, Nick," he said, "But that's not how your marriage is going to work, it was never going to be about loving the other person, it was a business deal for your father; you've always known that." He cast a sad glance over at Nick. "Anyway, at least Santana's a beautiful girl, and you'll be envied by everyone else. Granted, she's a little wild sometimes, but once you're married, she'll settle down."

"I don't want to be envied, David!" Nick cried, "If she's so in demand, let someone else have her! She mostly certainly shan't want me."

David shook his head.

"You know that it doesn't work like that," he said sadly, "Look, go to this ball tonight and speak to her, dance with her a little and make up your mind once you've returned."

Nick got up and headed for the door to one of the adjoining rooms.

"I suppose I have no choice," he said, "I will be dressed in a few minutes, and then I shall go and meet my future bride."

* * *

"Are you sure that this is a good idea?" Jeff hissed to Wes and Sebastian, who were both a few paces in front of him by the hedge which bordered the garden of the Duval house.

"Of course it is, Jeffy-boy," Sebastian said, turning around to smirk at the other boy, "You need have good time and stop moping around all the time. What happened to the old Jeff, eh? The old Jeff would have joined in with this, no problem."

Jeff shrugged.

"This is a waste of time," he grumbled, but he followed after his friends anyway.

"Well, at least you haven't left us yet," Sebastian said. He was one of Jeff's closest friends, not a blood relative, but family enough to be counted as one of the Sterlings.

"It's only because I don't have anything better to be doing," Jeff said. "Can we hurry up and go in yet?"

"Patience, Jeff," Wes held up his hand, "They're still eating, but once they have we will go in."

He surveyed his two friends.

"Now, are your masks ready?" he asked, as Jeff and Sebastian held their respective masks in the air and nodded.

"Why do we need these?" Sebastian said, twirling his elaborately adorned mask in his hand. "It hides my face."

Wes rolled his eyes.

"That's the point," he said dryly, "We don't want anyone to recognise us; no matter how wonderful you claim that your features are."

Sebastian looked hurt.

"I resent that," he said, "Granted, I have enough charm without people seeing my face, but still…"

"Sebastian, if you mention your 'charm' once more, I'm going home," Jeff cut in quickly.

Sebastian frowned and turned away, under his breath he muttered something that sounded like:

"You're just jealous."

"Alright, they're getting up to dance now," Wes said, "Let's go."

He led them around the hedge and up to the doormen on the front step.

"Good evening, gentlemen," the man said, "Please do enjoy your evening."

They all nodded politely, and stepped over the threshold into the grand entrance hall. A servant directed them to the ballroom, and there they were greeted by the master of the house, Lord Duval himself.

"Welcome, my fine friends," Lord Duval cried, catching the attention of everyone in the room. "Come, and dance awhile. Musicians, play for us so that the ladies can dance for our guests."

As with all masquerades, Jeff, Sebastian and Wes were invited to dance with the ladies in the room, and they appeared to be the centre of attention for a while, as everyone vied for the chance to partner them in a dance.

However, across the room, Nick's mother whispered in Nick's ear that it was high time that he asked Santana to dance with him. Hesitantly, he approached her, and she politely accepted his request.

"So," she said, as the band settled into a comfortable slow rhythm, "You're the boy that I'm supposed to marry; my father says that we'll be betrothed at the beginning of next month."

"That's right," Nick said, too busy trying not to step on the girl's feet to make much of a conversation.

"Well, I guess that I'd better make a few things clear then," Santana continued, "Firstly, you're rather short, aren't you? It doesn't really bother me, I suppose, but you could have grown a little more. Secondly, I think it's pretty obvious, but I'm not in love with you, and you're not in love with me; in fact, I reckon that neither of us is even attracted in the slightest to the other."

Nick gaped at her.

"How…how," he stuttered, "Er, what?"

Santana raised an eyebrow.

"You like boys, don't you?"

Nick hushed her hurriedly.

"Don't let anyone hear you say that," he said, "But yes, I do."

"It's alright," Santana said, "Your secret's safe with me. Anyway, I'm in love with one of our maidservants."

Nick's mouth dropped open yet again.

"Does anyone know?" he asked.

"Oh, don't look like that," the girl said, "And of course no one knows."

Slowly, Nick smiled.

"You know what," he said, "I may never love you, Santana, but I do like you a lot, and I guess that we'll be pretty good friends."

Santana grinned.

"You're lucky that I like you too," she said.

They continued to dance for another few minutes, moving carefully through all of the other couples, and making a point of circling several times past their respective parents, who all nodded and said what a lovely pair they made.

They were just passing one of the masked guests when Santana eagerly tapped Nick's arm with her fingers.

"What is it?" Nick asked.

"That man over there, well, he's more of a boy, really," she said, "Yes, that one over there with the mask on. He's been staring at you for the past five minutes; he hasn't looked at anyone else."

"And?" Nick asked blankly.

"So, he likes you," Santana replied, "Go and talk to him."

"I can't!" Nick protested, "I'll get all tongue-tied and make a fool of myself. Anyway, I can't see his face, I might not like him back."

Santana sighed.

"One," she said, "You really shouldn't be so picky about looks, and two, it's obvious that he's attractive; I just know it!"

"You don't even like men," Nick muttered, but he still paused to bow to Santana and hand her over to another partner.

The girl winked at him, and gave him a small nudge over towards the masked boy.

Taking a deep breath, he hurried over.

* * *

Jeff ceased dancing for a moment so that he could catch his breath, and he hovered by the side of the room while he watched the dancers in front of him. Many couples passed him, but one in particular caught his eye; a boy of around his own age and a dark haired girl who was possibly a little older. They were talking together, but they were too quiet for Jeff to catch their words. Anyway, he was too busy being mesmerised by how handsome the brunette boy was, and how cute it was that every time his hair fell in his eyes, he flicked his head a little to get it out of the way.

The only frustrating issue was the manner in which he was interacting with the girl, who Jeff couldn't deny was extremely beautiful, but it did seem to mean that the brunette would not be interested in him at all.

"Excuse me?" the blonde turned to a servant next to him, "But who is that boy over there? The small brunette."

The man, clearly a hired servant, shook his head.

"I have no idea, sir," he said, before disappearing with a tray of empty glasses.

Jeff turned back to the couple to see the brunette lean into the girl to hear something that she was saying, and then, suddenly, the boy glanced over in his direction. Jeff's heart skipped a beat as their eyes locked, even if only for a second. He tried to calm himself down, for the boy had just looked at him, he hadn't even left the girl and come over either.

And then, suddenly, the boy was also walking over to him. A million possibilities raced through Jeff's head; was he coming over to talk to him? Or would he just tell him not to keep staring creepily at him?

"Er, hello," the brunette said nervously, "I couldn't help noticing you, er, looking over at me, and so I'd thought I'd come over and talk to you."

Jeff flushed.

"Hello," he said slightly awkwardly, "Yes, I did, er, notice you dancing, and, er, shall we go somewhere out of the way to talk?"

The brunette nodded and quickly led Jeff over to a small alcove at the side of the ballroom, away from the rest of the guests.

"We can talk here," he said.

* * *

Hunter looked up from where he'd just left one of daughters of a wealthy duke after dancing with her for several minutes, and overheard a small part of Nick and Jeff's conversation.

He knew Jeff's voice at once.

A Sterling.

"Uncle," he said, hurrying over to where Lord Duval was sipping at his drink, "We have a Sterling here."

"What makes you think that?" the lord asked, looking around at the guests.

"I recognised him," Hunter explained, "He's come as part of the masquerade. Shall I get rid of him?"

Lord Duval shook his head.

"I shouldn't think that will be necessary," he said, "Let him be, he's causing no trouble."

"All Sterlings are troublemakers," Hunter insisted, "Especially this one."

"Who is it then?"

"Young Jeff, the heir. I should reckon that the other two are his friends. Uncle, we should not entertain such villains in our own house."

"They're hardly villains," Lord Duval frowned, "They're just dancing. Now, stop being so insolent and have some fun."

He waved his nephew away, and with a determined look on his face, Hunter disappeared into the crowds; he wasn't going to let any Sterlings cause a scene for his family, if they caused any trouble, he'd deal with it.

* * *

Nick and Jeff stood in silence in the alcove for a few moments, just studying each other.

"You know, you're possibly the most handsome person I've ever laid eyes upon," Jeff said boldly, reaching out to take Nick's hands in his own.

Nick blushed.

"So, are you," he replied, "And if you would remove the mask, you would be even more so."

Jeff grinned.

"If only I could," he said, "But then the illusion would be ruined." He cupped Nick's cheek in the palm of his hand and leaned in closer to him, so that there was barley any space between them. "Forgive me," he whispered.

And he closed the gap between their lips and kissed Nick softly. It was a tender kiss, lingering and full of the sudden love that both of them were feeling.

Slowly, and almost reluctantly, Jeff pulled away and rested his forehead on the brunette's own.

"Perfect," Nick breathed out.

"Like you," Jeff replied, smiling gently at the other boy.

Nick blushed again.

"You're adorable when you get embarrassed," Jeff said, leaning in once again to kiss the brunette.

This kiss was more passionate than the last one but they still managed to convey all of their feelings into it.

They had just broken away and smiling shyly at each other again, when David appeared in the alcove

"Sir, your mother requests you," he said, properly addressing Nick, as he always had to do during formal events.

"Of course, David, I'll be right along," he replied, smiling once more at Jeff, and then disappearing off into the ballroom.

"Who is his mother?" Jeff asked, once it was just him and David remaining.

"Why, she's the mistress of this house," David answered, watching curiously as Jeff turned pale.

"So, he's a Duval," he said, half to himself and half for confirmation from David. "Someone who I should hate, yet instead I love unconditionally."

He looked up again to find David gone, and Wes standing in his place.

"It's high time we left," he said, "It's the proper time that it was done."

Still in a slight trance after his meeting with Nick, Jeff nodded drowsily and followed his cousin from the alcove, and back out into the ballroom.

"Are you feeling alright?" Wes asked, regarding Jeff suspiciously.

The blonde nodded.

"Never better," he replied, but his cousin didn't appear convinced.

Sebastian was already whispering an excuse into Lord Duval's ear when they reached him, and the older man wished the three of them a safe journey home and thanked them for attending.

With one last longing look across the room at Nick, Jeff followed his friends out of the door.

* * *

"David," Nick prodded his friend to gain his attention. "Who were those three who arrived in masks?" He motioned over to where the men in question were just leaving.

"I do not know the first two," the manservant said, "But the third is the man I saw you with earlier."

"Yes, and who is he?" Nick prompted.

David sighed.

"His name is Jeff, and he is a Sterling; the heir of your enemy."

Nick paled and his mouth dropped open.

"How I could come to love someone who I am supposed to hate?" he wondered, "Yet my love does not lessen with this knowledge."

"Sorry, what is this?" David asked, "Love whom?"

Nick shook his head.

"I'm sorry, David," he said, "But that boy, Jeff Sterling, I met him here today, and…it was like nothing I could ever explain. I love him, David, and yet I'm made to hate him too."

David opened his mouth to speak but a sharp cry of Nick's name from the corridor interrupted them, and they were forced to abandoned their conversation in favour of going to see what was wanted.

* * *

"It's late," Thad said, looking up from the window seat at the figure in his doorway, "Why are you here now?"

"I was at a ball in the city," Sebastian said, coming further into the room and closing the door behind him. "I thought that I'd drop by to see you on my way home."

Thad grinned.

"My home is the completely opposite direction to your house," he said, "You just wanted to see me."

"So, you figured me out," Seb smirked, and accepted the other man's indication for him to sit on the window seat as well.

"It wasn't exactly hard," Thad shot back. "Anyway, I'm glad to see you."

"Aren't you always?"

"Of course, but today especially; I am at my wits' end with everything that is going on."

"Like what?" Sebastian asked.

"You know what," Thad jabbed him in the ribs mockingly, "This ridiculous feud! And not a single person in Verona knows when or why or how it even started; the Sterlings and the Duvals are fighting over nothing." He slumped in defeat against Sebastian's side. "I'm supposed to be the ruler of this city; I'm supposed to protect my citizens. Yet I can do nothing of any use to stop this argument."

Sebastian sighed.

"They all respect you," he said, "Everyone does, and they always look to you to lay down the law when they are wronged. You cannot fix everything in this world."

"But I should be able to do something surely!" Thad insisted, "I feel useless."

Sebastian leaned over and softly pressed his lips to the top of the other man's head.

"You're not useless," he said, "And if anyone can right this wrong, it's you."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, hopefully the other parts will be posted soon :) I hope you enjoyed this :)**

**Thank you for reading and please leave a review to tell me what you thought :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, here's the second part, and then there will be a final part later :) Thank you for the lovely response to this story :)**

**Also, I am sorry for the lack of updates for ****_On The Home Front_**** at the moment, I wanted to get this finished, and I have limited writing time right now, but I will get an update out by the end of the weekend, hopefully, as well as the end of this :)**

**Warning: Major character death**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and I do not own Romeo and Juliet.**

* * *

Jeff wandered through the Duvals' orchard under the cover of the shadows of the trees. He'd separated from Wes and Sebastian as soon as he could, and returned to the Duvals' estate without a second thought; he couldn't bring himself to properly leave without seeing Nick again.

Anyway, Wes and Sebastian didn't care where he'd gone; Sebastian had no doubt disappeared to see Thad, and Wes had a meeting with his father.

As he walked, he thought about his feelings for Nick, not that there was much to think about; he was head over heels in love with the other boy, and there was no question about it.

And if Nick's reaction was anything to go by, he felt exactly the same way.

Unbeknownst to Jeff, he had managed to make his way to the line of trees that faced Nick's balcony, and at that very moment, Nick himself was just stepping out into the night air.

Jeff was only alerted to the other boy's presence when he began speaking.

"Oh, Jeff, if only you were here now," Nick sighed longingly, "I would willingly defy my father's wishes if it meant that I could be with you for all eternity. But you are of the house of Sterling, and we were born to be enemies."

He paused, and below, Jeff hid in the shadows to listen.

"But what is a Sterling when it's considered? It is but a name," Nick continued, "Nothing but a word, and why should I hate my only love on the basis of his name? For yes, Jeff, I love you, and I wish that you were here now to hear me say it. Let us leave behind this foolish feud of our families, and forge a new alliance between us."

Carefully, Jeff stepped out of the darkness and into the moonlight.

"Hear, hear," he said appreciatively, "You speak the truth."

"Who is it?" Nick asked, looking around himself in a panic, as though he had been overheard by someone who would punish him.

"It is I, Jeff Sterling," Jeff replied, "Though if you wished I would change my name so that we could be together."

At the confirmation that the speaker was Jeff, Nick leant over the balcony further in an attempt to catch sight of him.

"Oh, a boy by any other name," the brunette said, "And it would not be so bad, but a Sterling, and it appears not possible in the slightest now."

"Do not despair, love," Jeff replied, smiling tenderly up at the other boy, who blushed at the term of endearment. "I have a plan."

"But is it safe?" Nick lowered his voice. "If my family catch you here, they will not hesitate to arrest you, or worse, have you killed! It is not safe for you to be here, Jeff, I could not bear if anything happened to you."

"I will take that risk if it means that I may see you," Jeff declared boldly, "A thousand swords could not chase me from your side. I must tell you, I have an old friend, a friar, who I shall meet with tomorrow; I will discuss the possibility of our marriage with him."

"Marriage?" Nick whispered, his eyes shining brightly as he leaned over the railing of the balcony. "Tomorrow?"

"If you so wish it," Jeff promised.

"Of course I wish it," Nick said excitedly, "I cannot bear to be parted from you any longer."

"Nor I to be withheld from you," Jeff said, "So, shall it be?"

"It shall," Nick said, "Though, I must find a way to get messages through to you."

They both paused to think for several moments.

"Nick!" David's voice suddenly called from within. "Nick! Where are you?"

"I'm coming, David!" Nick answered, before turning back to Jeff. "I shall return in a short while, do not leave without a goodbye."

"I would not dream of it," Jeff said earnestly, and he watched as Nick disappeared into the house.

For several moments, all he could see was the occasional movement of a shadow behind the draped curtains of Nick's room, and he could clearly see that the two occupants of the room were having an urgent conversation.

Finally, Nick re-emerged and leant over the balcony to speak to Jeff again.

"I have told David of your proposition," he said, "And he has agreed to act as a messenger for us both. If you truly love me and wish to marry me, send word by nine o'clock tomorrow morning."

"You know that I love you," Jeff smiled, "But I shall send word regardless. Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight, Jeff, I love you too," Nick said, blushing again as Jeff winked and blew him a kiss, before they parted for the night.

* * *

It was barely after dawn, and Trent was already out picking some local herbs for his concoctions; in fact, he'd already been out for several hours, and it was just the rest of the world that still had yet to awaken.

It was so early that he went out, that he rarely encountered anyone as he walked, so to hear faint footsteps on the damp grass behind him was both a surprise and also rather pleasing to know that he had company. Slowly, he turned around to greet whoever it was.

"Friar!" Jeff's breathless voice spoke before he had a chance to open his mouth. "Trent! I need your help."

Trent resisted the urge to roll his eyes, for that would have been exceedingly uncharitable.

"You always need my help, Jeff," he said. "What is it this time?"

"I've met someone," Jeff cut straight to the point.

"And I take it that this someone is very special to you?" Trent immediately surmised, and the small smile that Jeff gave involuntarily confirmed his suspicions.

"Yes, he is," the blonde admitted, "Extremely special."

The fact that the object of Jeff's affections was male did not escape Trent's notice, and he smiled inwardly.

"And who is the lucky man?" the friar inquired, eager to know who his friend had given his heart to.

Jeff bit his lip, forewarning Trent of the revelation that was to come, although the friar was the last person who would judge him.

"Nick," he said, "Nick Duval."

Trent's eyes widened instinctively, although he tried to hide it for Jeff's sake.

"A Duval?" he whistled through his teeth and shook his head, "If I am honest, I did not foresee that."

"Neither did I," Jeff said, as he smiled involuntarily when he thought of Nick, "But it all happened so fast and so perfectly that I would not wish it any other way."

Trent nodded.

"You truly love him?"

"That I do!" Jeff cried fervently, "More than love, even, for what I feel is indescribable and it is forever." He addressed the friar once again. "So, will you marry us?"

"How could I refuse?" Trent smiled kindly, "I would be honoured. And maybe this union will turn your families' hatred into love."

* * *

"Where can Jeff be?" Wes asked, as he and Sebastian were walking down a street near the Sterling household. They were searching for their friend and companion, of whom they had had no sighting since they had left the ball the night before.

"A man cannot just disappear," Sebastian remarked rather unhelpfully, but at that moment it seemed that Jeff had done just that. "Is he not at his father's house?"

"My uncle has seen him no more than we have," Wes replied, "Perhaps even less." He shook his head. "I would say that he had read the letter from Hunter and tried to run, but the letter only arrived in my hand this morning, and it is not like Jeff to flee from a challenge."

"A challenge?"

Wes nodded.

"Hunter claims that he has tainted his family's honour through some occurrence," he said, and though he did not divulge the reasons to Sebastian, he thought that he could hazard a guess at what had happened between Jeff and the Duval family.

"So he wants a duel?"

"Yes, and Jeff will answer it; there is no doubt as to that. But is our Jeff a match for Hunter?"

Sebastian frowned.

"Why ever would he not be?" he asked.

"Hunter is the sort of man who picks a fight with even the slightest creature who threatens his family or his honour, and he thrives on the intimidation of his foe," Wes explained, "Such a challenge, such a duel, is mere child's play to him. And Jeff is little more than a boy, Seb, you know that, who toys with the idea of adventure and proving himself, yet has no experience in such things. For Jeff will throw himself headfirst into this, but to what result?"

"Maybe his swordsmanship will outstrip that of Hunter?" Sebastian suggested.

"It is unlikely," Wes said, "Lord Duval paid for Clarington's tuition, and fencing lessons were a staple subject; his skill is unrivalled in Verona, and men talk about his swordsmanship with fear evident in their voices."

"Whose voices fear what?" Jeff's bright tones interrupted them and they discovered their friend approaching them with a wide grin on his face.

"Nothing," Wes quickly amended, for he did not want to reveal his doubts. "It was just some idle talk."

"Anyway, where have you been?" Sebastian demanded to know, "You disappeared last night without so much as a word as to where you had gone."

Jeff shrugged.

"I had business to attend to," he said noncommittally.

"And was it so urgent that you could not inform your friends first?" Wes asked, narrowing his eyes as though trying to look straight through Jeff for the answer; although he had a feeling that he knew the truth already.

"Yes," Jeff said rather bluntly, and both Wes and Sebastian looked at each other in surprise; clearly Jeff didn't want to talk about where he had been.

They were interrupted by the arrival of David, looking rather out of breath. He had been waving his arms around as he hurried down the street in an attempt to catch Jeff's attention; and when that had failed, he'd almost launched himself at the blonde.

"Who are you?" Sebastian asked, looking David up and down a few times as the man tried to regain his breath. "And why are you practically throwing yourself at my friend?"

David stood up a little straighter and smoothed out the creases in his tunic.

"I bring news from my master," he said, "But it is for Master Jeff, not you two."

"That doesn't answer my question," Sebastian said insistently, "Who are you? And who is your master?"

Wes leaned over to whisper in Seb's ear that he didn't think that it was any of his business who David or his master were, but the other man just frowned and shook his head.

"I want to know what news Jeff is receiving," he said, "He's our friend, and he disappeared strangely last night. Something is definitely going on and I want to know what."

"Patience," Jeff chided, in a most un-Jeff-like manner; it would have been something that Wes would said normally, but everything seemed to be changing at that point. "If you wait, then all shall be revealed to you."

Sebastian glared at his friend.

"I'm not in the mood for riddles," he stated, "When you decide to include your closest friends in your affairs, come and find us."

He turned sharply on his heel and stalked away up the street. Wes shook his head and hurried after him.

"I'm sorry about that," Jeff apologised to David, "Pray, what news do you have of Nick?"

"Actually, sir, he was hoping to have news from you," the other man said, "Has the marriage been arranged?"

Jeff nodded eagerly.

"Yes, it is all accounted for," he confirmed, "I will be awaiting Nick at Trent's this afternoon, you know, the friar who lives on the hill just outside of the city walls?"

David said that he did know of Trent.

"Very good," he said, "And is there anything else?"

Jeff thought for a moment, for he needed to be absolutely certain that everything was perfect for such a great undertaking.

"Actually," he said eventually, "There is something that you, yourself, can do."

"Me?"

"Yes, wait for us outside of the chapel and bring a rope ladder with you."

"A rope ladder?"

"Yes, it is essential; can you promise me that you will bring one?"

David bowed rather gallantly.

"Of course, sir," he said, "And now I must take this good news back to my master."

"Take my greeting to Nick," Jeff said, sounding excited at the prospect of their marriage."

David agreed once more, before departing and leaving Jeff alone once more.

* * *

Nick was pacing in his room; he'd been from the window to the door and back again several times already, and now he was beginning to traipse up and down the balcony to while away the time.

"Where is David?" he muttered to himself, "He must have got word from Jeff now."

He paused to lean out over the balcony railing.

"Jeff loves me, I know he does," he said softly, his words drifting on the breeze, "So why am I suddenly worrying that he will not send his word. Surely, he intends to marry me, when he feels this love just as strongly as I do." He sighed. "But David, where are you, David?"

"I'm here, Nick," the very voice that he wished to hear called to him.

"David!" Nick cried joyfully, coming back through the open doors from the balcony and sitting down expectantly on a nearby chair. "What news do you have?"

David held up a hand.

"Let me just catch my breath again," he said, panting slightly, "I ran almost all the way there and back."

Nick was silent for a few moments as he let his friend recover, but he couldn't stop his knee from bouncing in anticipation; he just had to know!

"David," he tried again, "What did he say?"

"He has arranged everything for your marriage," the other man said, "It is all ready for you."

Nick clapped his hands together in joy and tried to contain the excitement that he was feeling inside. He wanted to skip and dance and shout at the top of his voice at the news, but he didn't feel that would be entirely appropriate or subtle towards the situation.

"And," David continued, "You are to meet him at Trent's home on the hill, where you will then go to the chapel; are you able to get away for several hours this afternoon?"

Nick nodded.

"I am," he said, "I will take some food with me, and I shall go immediately."

"Not so fast," David halted him, "I must secure a rope ladder, which Jeff has requested, and then I shall wait for you outside of the chapel later. Yes, go and find some food for us both, and once I have this ladder, we shall set off together."

Nick jumped up excitedly, and headed for the door. He opened it and then turned back to his friend.

"Thank you, David," he said, "You cannot imagine how much this means to me."

* * *

"You know that he will come," Trent said soothingly, "He loves you, Jeff, as much as you love him. And although I have never seen the two of you together, I just know it."

"I know, I know," Jeff said, "But I still can't stop worrying that he won't turn up. What if he's changed his mind?"

"He won't have changed his mind," the friar reassured him. "He'll get here as soon as he can. Anyway, if he's anything like you, he will not delay seeing the one he loves by so much as a second."

Jeff did not reply, for he was too busy staring intently at the door, as though willing it to open with his mind. He did not really doubt that Nick would show, but in his fevered state of excitement, he could not stop his mind from wandering onto these possibilities.

And then, just as he had been hoping, the door handle turned and, with a creak, the door opened.

Jeff was on his feet before he'd even seen who was there. But he was not disappointed, for Nick stood there, looking rather anxious as he hovered awkwardly.

His eyes searched desperately for Jeff's, and when they met, it was as though the two halves of one single soul had come home after searching for each other.

Both boys sighed at the feeling of being together again. And before Trent could speak, they had almost flown to each other in their urgency, and were embracing tightly.

"I missed you," Nick whispered into Jeff's shoulder, where he'd rested his head.

"I missed you too," Jeff replied in kind, and he buried his face in Nick's dark hair. "But after today, we shall not be apart again; I will come for you later so that we can be together."

Nick raised his head to gaze in Jeff's hazel eyes.

"I love you," he said, sincerely and earnestly.

Jeff smiled down at the other boy.

"I love you too," he said, in the same tone, before leaning down to tenderly kiss Nick's lips.

Trent stood to one side during the intimate exchange; he did not want to interrupt them, but he was mindful of the fact that they had to hurry or risk Nick's absence being discovered by his family.

Reluctantly, he clapped his hands together and broke their reverie.

"We must hurry," he said, "Come, follow me."

He beckoned to them from the door, and then he led them away to the chapel so that they could be together forever; till death did part them.

* * *

"He's disappeared again," Sebastian remarked of Jeff, as he and Wes found themselves searching for their blonde friend in another street for the second time that day.

"Maybe it's because you decided to interfere with his business earlier," Wes said dryly, "Maybe he's avoiding you."

Sebastian scoffed.

"I doubt it," he said, "I was just concerned for his welfare."

Wes raised an eyebrow.

"Since when have you started caring for anyone that wasn't you?" he asked.

"I always look out for my friends," Seb vehemently defended himself.

"Sure," Wes said, turning away.

He quickly turned back again, however, when he caught sight of who was approaching them.

"Seb," he hissed, "We need to walk away now."

"Why?"

"Because Hunter is coming our way, and I do not wish to confront him. We have no quarrel with him."

But Sebastian stood his ground.

"He is of the Duval family," he said, "Is that not a good enough reason for a quarrel?"

"Sebastian, no! You sound like Hunter now, please, just leave him be and we can all go home safely and without harm tonight."

"Why are we running?" Sebastian turned to Wes, "Why should we have to scarper when we so much as see an enemy? Where is your courage?"

"I have plenty of courage," Wes retorted, "But I know when to use it, and I do not just throw it around when I feel the need to prove myself."

Both men narrowed their eyes at each other.

"Surprise, surprise," the unwelcome tones of Hunter Clarington broke into their conversation, "I have found two of the house of Sterling bickering with each other in the street. Tell me, men, how do you wish to defend your family's name if you fight amongst yourselves consistently? Is it rather demoralising to know that you cannot even hold together loyalty between brothers?"

Wes had to suppress an angry growl at the other man.

"If you came here to insult us," he said, "Then do move on, for we are not interesting in wasting your time."

Hunter laughed.

"I did not come here for you at all," he said, "For I am looking for a kinsman of yours, Jeff Sterling."

"It seems that everyone is out looking for Jeff," Sebastian remarked aside, to no one in particular. "And we are all in luck, for here he comes now."

And sure enough, Jeff was hurrying towards them from the other end of the street, an explicably bright smile on his face.

"Good morrow, gentlemen," he said, sounding exceedingly cheery, "And to what do we owe the pleasure of your company, sir?" He turned to look at Hunter.

However, the other man did not return his warm greeting.

"The pleasure is all yours, I am afraid," Hunter said, "For it is not mine. You are a villain, Jeff, a villain that would tarnish the name of the Duvals forever if you were given the chance."

If Jeff was taken aback by this accusation, then he did not show it, for he replied in a pacifying voice.

"I feel that our definitions of 'villain' may differ," he said, "But I am sorry for any offence that I have caused you, and please accept my apologies."

The blonde boy's peaceful and calm response did not seem to please Hunter, who had clearly been expecting to incite a rage within his enemy; one that he could easily crush with force.

Jeff's reply also seemed to anger Sebastian.

"Jeff, how can you stand there and let him insult you?" Seb cried, "How can you just give in to him?"

Jeff shrugged.

"I see no reason to reply otherwise," he said simply, "And I do not wish to wrong anyone today." He surveyed the three men around him. "I would say that this issue has been resolved, then."

"Not so fast," Sebastian stepped forward boldly, and addressed Hunter. "I know that you came here for a confrontation," he said, "And I know that you challenged Jeff to a duel. So, will you accept my challenge instead?"

Wes and Jeff looked on in horror as Hunter accepted, and both men drew their swords.

"No!" Wes cried, "Stop this nonsense now! You know the law, do you want to be arrested and executed?"

Sebastian and Hunter paid him no heed, and were instead sizing each other up for their fight.

"Put your swords away!" Jeff shouted, trying to push Sebastian out of the way, but to no avail. "Stop it!"

Bravely, he stepped in between the two of them before they could get a blow in, and he held up his arm to halt them.

"Do not do this," he said, "Apart from your families, you have no quarrel with each other. You say that you fight for honour, but where is the honour in senseless violence?"

Sebastian paused for a moment to answer his friend, and that pause proved to be his undoing.

Wes saw what was to happen before anyone else did, and he shouted for Sebastian to move.

But it was too late.

Hunter swung his sword up just as Sebastian's grip faltered, and he thrust the blade at the other man under Jeff's arm.

The blonde boy in the middle saw what had happened with widened eyes, and he spun around to catch his best friend as he collapsed to the floor.

As all attention left him, Hunter realised what had done, and he ran from the street as fast as he could; but no one saw him go, nor did they care at that moment.

"Sebastian," Wes smoothed his friend's hair from his forehead soothingly, "Sebastian, talk to us."

The fallen man smiled ruefully.

"I'll talk alright," he said, "I have not had my fair share of words yet, and I plan to use them as much as possible."

"Can we get help?" Jeff asked desperately, "Surely it is not too deep a wound?"

Wes shook his head in resignation.

"There's no time," he said, "And as I have said before, Hunter is a skilled swordsman, he knew where to strike fatally."

"Maybe I should have heeded your warning," Sebastian remarked, "I suppose that I have no need for honour now."

"We shall fight in your name," Jeff vowed, "You shall be avenged, and Hunter will be punished accordingly."

"No more fighting," Wes said hurriedly, but his words went unnoticed.

"It is a foolish cause," Sebastian said suddenly, his voice growing weaker as he spoke, "This fighting between the families. I say, a plague on both your houses and let's hope that this nonsense ends soon; I am bloodshed enough."

Jeff bowed his head as Wes shifted the other man into his arms and carried him away to the edge of the street, under the cover of a doorway. A single tear slid down the blonde boy's face; this feud would cost him too many dear friends.

And Nick. What of Nick? If his family discovered that he loved, no, had married, a Sterling, what would they say and what would they do?

Jeff did not want to even consider that possibility.

"Jeff!"

It was the arrogant call of a man who had tasted victory and craved more. Jeff turned to see Hunter, returning with his sword unsheathed already, almost sauntering down the cobbles to meet him.

This time, there was no attempt for a peaceful reconciliation.

"You have killed one of my own," Jeff said, a determined fire ablaze in his eyes. "I fight for Sebastian, and I fight for the freedom of both our families."

Hunter laughed again; a cold and empty echoing sound.

He raised his sword without a word, and Jeff drew his own to match him.

As they fought, a crowd gathered around them, many simply curious, while others were anxiously waiting for the officers of the law to arrive to stop the confrontation. Fighting in the streets had been forbidden under the punishment of death, and many people were just curious as to whether the threat of retribution would be carried through.

In a moment of weakness, Hunter left himself undefended, and Jeff managed to strike him with his blade. The other man gave a hoarse cry, and then fell forwards onto the cobbles.

The chattering of the crowd became deathly silence.

The only noise was the clatter of Jeff's sword as, in shock, the blade slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground beside Hunter's lifeless body.

And then everything began to happen at once; the crowd began shouting for the law, while Wes was practically screaming at his cousin.

"Jeff!" he yelled, "Run! Go!"

As though in a trance, the blonde boy turned to stare at his best friend, who was still cradling Sebastian's body in his arms.

"Why?" he asked, completely stupefied by the situation.

"He's dead, Jeff!" Wes cried back, "You've killed Hunter! Run, Jeff, leave the city before they catch you!"

Slowly, Jeff understood what had happened, and he took off up the street before any law officers could apprehend him. His mind was racing as he realised what he had just done, but he couldn't stop running.

He did not look back, for if he had done, he would have seen Thad arriving on his horse to deal with the chaos in the street, followed by the heads of both the Sterlings and the Duvals, and their wives.

The prince dismounted from his horse and surveyed the situation. On all sides stood a large crowd, all shouting various statements:

"Murder!"

"The Sterlings!"

"The Duvals!"

Thad didn't know quite what had happened yet, but he was starting to get a vague idea.

In front of him, on the ground, lay the prone figure of the late Hunter Clarington; and if the bloodstained sword nearby was anything to go by, then it was rather obvious what had occurred to him. Lady Duval fell on her knees beside her nephew and wept openly.

But it was the scene to the side that struck Thad the most: Wes, a man he knew well, was crouched on the cold ground and holding another figure in his arms.

Sebastian.

And he was not moving.

Thad gave a strangled cry, which he attempted to muffle, and ran to kneel beside where Wes already was.

"What happened?" Thad demanded, although he could clearly see that Sebastian had met the same fate as Hunter.

Wes bowed his head; he knew of the relationship between the prince and his friend, and he did not have the words to convey his condolences at that moment.

"I'm sorry," he said, but he did not feel that was sufficient, even if it was all that he could offer.

Thad did not answer, he just shifted Sebastian's body into his own arms and held him against him for a few minutes. Tears flowed down his face, falling and staining the already marked cloth of Sebastian's jacket.

"He wanted you to know his last words," Wes said gently, placing a comforting hand on Thad's shoulder.

Thad raised his head hopefully.

"He wanted you to know how much he loved you," Wes told him.

Thad nodded, and then broke down, clutching the man in his arms even tighter to his chest.

"Who did this?" he asked hoarsely, "Whose hand did this?"

Wes nodded in the direction of Hunter's body.

"He did."

It was a simple statement, but it said everything.

Thad released Sebastian from his arms, and got up. He turned around and his expression hardened at the sight of the other man on the ground; he had already served his punishment.

"Then who killed Hunter?" he asked, frowning when he realised that he did not know who had dealt the last fatal blow.

Wes hung his head, he did not want to mention Jeff's name, but he had no choice, otherwise he would have been as guilty as the others for lying to a man of the law.

"Jeff did," he said, "Jeff killed Hunter because Hunter killed Sebastian."

On the other side of the street, Lady Sterling gave a shocked cry and leaned heavily on his husband, who stood stoically by her side.

"Is this the truth?" Thad said unemotionally.

"It is," Wes nodded, "Hunter came looking for a fight with Jeff, yet when he would not rise to the baiting, Sebastian stepped in instead. Sebastian was killed while Jeff tried to stop them, yet then Hunter returned for another confrontation, and that was when he was killed."

Thad did not want to blame Jeff anymore than Wes did, for Jeff had avenged Sebastian and in his eyes, that was admirable; but he could not excuse one person's crime, when the other had forfeited with their life.

Yet, was the punishment of death applicable when the offender had been provoked and was fighting on the honour of a fallen comrade? Thad did not think it was.

"In the light of his crime," he announced, "Jeff will have to pay for what he has done. However, because he was deliberately antagonised into this fight, he will only be exiled. Henceforth, if Jeff is found within the walls of Verona, he will be breaking the terms of his banishment, and he will be punished with death."

With his final word, Thad turned to Wes and nodded once. The other man knew immediately that he was conveying his wishes for Sebastian's body, and that while he had to leave at that moment, he would seek out Wes to discuss a funeral at a later time. No word passed between them, Wes just knew, as he always did.

* * *

For the second time in one day, Nick found himself waiting anxiously for David to return with news from Jeff; the pair were supposed to be leaving together later that evening, for, as Jeff had promised, they were not to be apart. They'd regrettably had to go their separate ways earlier that day before Nick's parents became suspicious as to where he was, and also so that Jeff could make all of their plans ready.

That had been after their wedding, and Nick had not seen Jeff since then.

Nick sighed happily, he still could not stop smiling at the memory; at the fact that he was now married to the man he loved with all his heart and being.

He couldn't wait to spend eternity with Jeff.

He thought back to his conversation at the ball with Santana, the night that he had first met Jeff, and realised that it had not been as long ago as it seemed; how much his life had changed in such a short space of time. She'd be pleased for him, he decided, if she knew how happy he was, and once he was gone with Jeff, then she could stay with the serving girl, whom she loved.

Yes, everyone would live happily ever after that way.

Nick's musings were interrupted by the arrival of David, yet the other man did not seem to enter the rooms with such vigour as he usually did, and the look on his face stopped all demands of news from Jeff which Nick had previously been about to voice aloud.

"David?" he asked tentatively, the almost hollow look in his friend's eyes was unnerving him a little.

"There was a fight in the street today," David said, his gaze fixed firmly on the window and the garden beyond. "Your cousin, Hunter, is dead."

Nick opened and closed his mouth several times in complete surprise, and he struggled to find any words to express his shock.

"How?" he managed to say eventually.

David shook his head resignedly.

"He killed a friend of the Sterling family, Sebastian," he explained vaguely, but the explanation was not enough for Nick.

"But who killed Hunter?" Nick persisted, his curiosity making everything so much harder and setting himself up for a bigger fall.

"What does it matter?" David avoided the question. "This rope ladder that I just got is useless now." He motioned to the knotted length of flax that lay on the floor near his feet.

Nick frowned; he did not understand the significance of the rope with his enquiry.

"The rope is for Jeff," he said, "It is so that the two of us can be together. I was talking of who killed my cousin, not Jeff and…" He trailed away, and looked up at David with wide eyes. "Oh, David, tell me that it is not true; my cousin was not killed by Jeff, was he?"

David cast his eyes to the floor and Nick knew that his suspicions had been confirmed.

"How could this be?" he cried, "We were married not even four hours ago, and now we are to be parted so soon! I know of the prince's rule; where have they taken him and can I see him? Can I save him from this dreadful fate?" He collapsed onto his nearby bed in almost hysterical tears.

David watched the display of fierce emotion slightly fearfully.

"The prince spared Jeff's life," he corrected gently, "But Jeff has been banished from Verona; never to set foot within the city walls under the threat of death."

Nick paused his sobs for a moment to take in what his friend had just said.

"So he is not dead?" he said, "But in exile from the city, how shall I see him again?"

"There is still hope, Nick," David reassured the other boy, "I shall go to see Trent, for doubtless Jeff is hiding out there with him, and we shall discuss what is to be done. Maybe there is still a way that you and Jeff can be together still."

Nick started up from his bed.

"I will come with you," he said, "He is my husband, after all."

David shook his head decisively.

"No," he said, "You must stay here, otherwise your parents will question where you keep disappearing off to, especially after what has just happened to your cousin."

Nick sunk back down.

"I feel that I should cry for the death of my cousin," he said slowly, "But when I already know that he set out earlier today to challenge Jeff to duel, I cannot feel any sympathy."

David patted his shoulder comfortingly.

"It is understandable," he said, "And now, I must go. Do not fret, for everything will be alright for you and Jeff."

* * *

**A/N: I'm just finishing off the last part, so that should be posted soon :) Prepare for a lot of sadness, but if you know the story of Romeo and Juliet, you will know that already...**

**Thank you for reading, and please leave me a review to tell me what you thought :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, this is the final part, so I'm sure that you can all imagine what is about to happen... Thank you for the response to this story, and I will get back to updating ****_On The Home Front_**** soon :) Also, ****_MeganThreeSix_**** - I will start working on your prompt as soon as I have enough time, I promise! You've had to wait far too long, I know!**

**Also, on another note, as you've probably all realised, only ****_Second Star To The Right_**** has any cover artwork, so if anyone would like to do something for any of my other stories, that would be much appreciated! :)**

**Sorry for the long author's note, but ****_Kiwi_****, I couldn't reply to your review, so here's my reply now: I'm glad that you're enjoying this, and that I keep managing to guess your favourite books :) And I like those ideas for other stories - maybe you should give them a go? :)**

**Warning: Major character death (suicide) and general tragedy :(**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and I do not own Romeo and Juliet. **

* * *

Jeff sat on the low bench in Trent's cottage with his head in his hands, news of his exile having reached him by now.

"What am I to do?" the blonde boy asked, "Now that my world is ended."

Trent shook his head.

"It is not ended," he said, "You were lucky to have not been sentenced to death, instead, you are merely banished."

"But to be banished means to be away from Nick," Jeff said, "And that in itself is like a death."

"You cannot believe that, for even though you may not be in Verona, Nick may one day leave to meet you elsewhere."

"One day? I cannot wait for a day that may not come and that I may die before I can see. No, banishment is like a death in life."

"Come, come, you are being too melodramatic!"

"Do not chide me," Jeff snapped, "For my heart will be broken if I cannot see Nick, and then I shall definitely die."

There was a sharp knock on the door, which immediately silenced them.

"Who is it?" Trent called out, wondering who should be calling upon him that late in the evening.

"It is David," Nick's manservant's voice rang out, "I have come from Nick."

"Let him in," Jeff said urgently, desperate for some news from the other boy.

Trent hurried over to the door and welcomed David inside.

"Do you have news from Nick?" the blonde boy demanded almost as soon as the other man had stepped across the threshold.

"I do, sir," David replied, "Unfortunately I left him grieving for you alone in his room, he is beside himself with the thought of having to live without you."

Jeff hung his head, feeling ashamed with himself with the fact that he had deeply saddened Nick, the one person that mattered the most to him in the entire world.

"Maybe it would be simpler if I were not here," he said gloomily, "Then Nick would not have to worry about what I am doing, and even his grief may pass."

"Don't say that!" Trent cried, "That will not help our situation, no, we must think more logically about this."

He paused.

"Jeff, you cannot stay here, it is too close to Verona."

"Then where shall I go?"

"Mantua," Trent decided, "It is far enough away to be unsuspected, but you can return within a day if you so wish. Which brings me onto my next idea: do not leave tonight, but spend the night with Nick instead."

Jeff's eyes visibly lit up at that prospect.

"But," Trent continued, "You must be away by first light otherwise the gate will be closed and the patrol will have arrived; then you will be trapped within the city, where they will kill you if you are discovered."

"But I can spend the night with Nick!" Jeff was still fixated on that single aspect.

Trent nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Well, I'd best be returning to tell Nick what we have decided," David said, getting up from his chair and heading for the door. "Jeff, we shall expect you at sundown; I still have that rope ladder."

"Thank you," Jeff said, although it was unclear who his gratitude was directed at because he still seemed to be in some sort of trance at the fact that he had been given another chance to be with Nick.

David gave him an awkward sympathetic and encouraging pat on the shoulder, and then he disappeared.

* * *

"My lord," the Earl of Lopez greeted Lord Duval in his private chambers that night. "I feel that we must discuss further the prospect of marriage between my daughter and your son."

Lord Duval looked surprised.

"I thought that they were to be betrothed at the beginning of the next month, once Nicholas has turned seventeen?" he said, "Are you retracting your offer?"

"No, no," the earl shook his head vehemently, "I am proposing that we go ahead with the marriage immediately, instead of waiting for years with a betrothal."

"Really?"

"Of course, did you not see the way in which they behaved on the night of the ball? Your son danced with Santana for almost five dances in a row; they were nearly inseparable!"

Lord Duval nodded thoughtfully.

"And when would you suggest that this marriage takes place?" he asked, "The beginning of next month instead?"

"This week," the earl said firmly, "There has been talk in the city about how my daughter is still unmarried, and I do not wish those rumours to spread; nor would you if she is to marry your son. So, what do you say?"

Nick's father cast a glance across at his wife, who was seated by the window, and had so far remained silent during the exchange.

"I do not see why not," she spoke now, "I have no objections. Nicholas has been acting very strange for the past few days, so much so as to the point at which he has been going out frequently without an explanation; maybe this will bring him back to reality."

The Earl of Lopez clapped his hands together happily.

"It's decided then," he said, "They shall be married on Thursday? Does this suit you?"

"It suits us just fine," Lord Duval agreed, "We shall have all of the food and the guests ready and present on Thursday, although, it shall be a small and private affair to respect the death of my nephew, Hunter, this morning. Now, it is far too late, and you must deliver the news to your family."

He and the earl shook hands on their decision, and then Santana's father left to return to his own home.

Lord Duval turned to his wife before he too retired to his rooms.

"Will you deliver the news to Nick before you go to sleep?" he asked, to which his wife nodded.

And then they both departed to go their separate ways before bed.

* * *

It was first light when a lark began singing in the garden of the Duvals' house.

The sound of a balcony door being opened deftly broke the calm of the early morning for a moment, and then the lark's song continued to reverberate around the garden walls again.

Up on the balcony, two figures stepped out together. They were both still within the haziness of sleepiness, and their limbs were so entwined with each other that it was hard to tell where one of them began and where the other ended.

Wrapping his arms around Nick's waist, Jeff leaned down slightly to press a kiss to the top of the brunette's head, while the shorter boy sighed in content.

"You don't have to leave, do you?" Nick asked, leaning back into the blonde's chest so that he could look up at him.

"Sadly, yes," Jeff said, "Unless you wish for me to be killed."

Nick shook his head immediately.

"That's not what I meant," he said, "I just don't want this moment to ever end; I want to spend forever in your arms." He sighed again. "If I had the power to freeze time, I would keep this morning for all eternity, and we would never have to be parted again."

"I wish that it were possible," the blonde boy said, "Everything feels so perfect when we're away from the world, and we can just be with each other."

Nick nodded. He curled further into Jeff's chest when he realised that the cold night air was easily piercing his thin nightshirt, and anyway, the other boy was uncharacteristically warm, and he liked that.

Jeff responded by shifting his grip, so that one arm was on Nick's waist, while the other was at the base of his neck.

"The dawn is so beautiful," Nick muttered to himself.

"And nothing compares to how beautiful you are," Jeff replied, "Not even the dawn."

The brunette smiled happily, and reached up to kiss the other boy gently.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too." Jeff could not stop the grin that spread across his features as he spoke.

"Stay with me," Nick entwined their fingers together, "Don't leave."

"I have to."

"Then take me with you."

"You know that I'll be watched as soon as I reach Mantua, they'll all want to know what I am doing, and I cannot let them find out about you and take you away from me. No, we must wait until I have enough money, and suitable provisions, for a passage to somewhere far from here for the two of us. I will send word whenever I can."

"But I want to stay with my husband," Nick mumbled, causing Jeff to laugh a little.

"You like saying that, don't you?" the blonde said.

"You know I do," Nick replied, "It makes me happy."

Jeff held Nick even tighter and closer, if that was even possible.

"It makes me happy too," he said, "My husband, my love."

They stood in perfect silence for a while, until Jeff spoke again.

"To stay and die, or to leave and live," he said, "If only it were not so difficult."

Nick muttered something unintelligible into the blonde's chest in reply, but he was drowned out by David's frantic call:

"Nick, your mother is on her way here now!"

Nick's eyes went wide.

"Why is she here?" he cried, reluctantly removing himself from Jeff's arms.

"I must go," Jeff said, preparing the rope ladder, which had been conveniently placed by the balcony railing. "Goodbye, love."

The blonde gathered Nick up in his arms for one last time, and kissed him tenderly on the lips.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Jeff."

And with a final kiss, the two parted; Jeff descending the rope ladder, and Nick hurrying back into his room. He threw himself onto his bed, which he was convinced still smelt as though Jeff was still there, and cried.

"He's gone, David," he sobbed to his friend, "He's gone away, and I shan't see him for a while."

"He will always be in your heart," David replied gently, "And you are in his, that is the most important thing."

But Nick could not be consoled, and his tears drowned out the sound of his bedroom door opening, and his mother entering.

"Nicholas," his mother's voice cut through his sadness like a cold knife, "Your grief for your cousin is becoming ridiculous."

Nick's heart skipped a beat when he realised that his mother believed the reason for his sadness to be the fact that Hunter had died the previous day.

"You should not spend your time shut away in your rooms crying," Lady Duval continued, "Do you think that is the proper behaviour for a young man of your standing?"

"I have lost a friend," Nick said forcefully, "Why should I not cry?"

"Excessive crying is not necessary," his mother appeared rather unsympathetic to his grief, "It seems as if you have gone completely mad with sadness, yet why should you want that?"

"Maybe it is such a loss that I have lost my senses," Nick challenged.

His mother scoffed.

"I hardly think that is the case," she said. "Anyway, I did not come here to discuss the nature of your grief; no, I have other news: the Earl of Lopez and your father have proposed that you and Santana shall be married on Thursday."

Nick's eyes widened and a lump rose in his throat, but he would not let the tears begin falling again.

"Thursday? Why so soon?" he asked, knowing full well that the news would come as much of a shock to Santana as it had done to him.

"Your father has decided," Lady Duval said, as though it was final, and that was that. "Why, is there a problem, Nicholas?"

Nick shook his head, he couldn't do this anymore; the pretending; being a good son.

"I can't," he said softly, "I can't do it."

"Can't do what?" his mother narrowed his eyes at him, just daring him to defy her.

"I can't marry Santana," he said, "I don't love her, I never will, and I cannot marry her."

Lady Duval's face contorted into an expression of rage and she looked upon her son with such contempt, that Nick felt as though he could wither away under her gaze.

"Ungrateful boy," she snapped, "Tell your father of this foolish decision, and see what he makes of it."

Nick's heart plummeted as his bedroom door opened once more, and his father entered.

"What is the delay with the answer?" he asked his wife, clearly having been wondering why she had not delivered Nick's reaction to him sooner.

Lady Duval did not speak, she just waved a hand in Nick's direction.

His father's eyes fell upon his son, who was still seated on his bed, drying tear tracks still marking his cheeks.

"You have been crying?" Lord Duval asked, "Why such grief, my son?"

Nick shook his head and refused to reply.

"But surely the news of the marriage should bring joy to your heart?" the man went on.

Nick tried desperately to avoid his father's gaze, but he could see his mother giving him a look that was commanding him to tell the truth.

"Such a joy cannot be," he said eventually, "When the news holds no joyous note."

Lord Duval's brow furrowed.

"Are you saying that you are not pleased with this marriage arrangement?" he asked.

In a moment of boldness, Nick found some courage and he faced his father as bravely as he could.

"Yes," he said, "I am saying that I will not agree to this marriage."

There was a stunned silence as his father stared incredulously at his son, before his expression turned as angry as his wife's had done.

"You won't agree?" he cried thunderously, "You have no say in whether you agree or not, you…you wretch! It is not your place to say yes or no; you will do what I say and that is it! How dare you think that after everything that your mother and I have done for you, that you can defy us like this! We have given you the very best in life, and this is the biggest favour that we could offer, the hand of the Lady Santana in marriage; men would kill for such an honour, but instead you have become so spoiled that you refuse it."

Stupefied and frozen in place, Nick could do nothing but stare at his father in horror; he had not expected such an outburst. And now the tears were falling again and there was nothing that he could do to stop them.

"Until you come to your senses and stop being so disrespectful," Lord Duval finished, "You will no longer be my son."

With his parting statement, Lord Duval swept from the room, hurriedly followed by his wife; neither of them spared a second glance for their son as he collapsed in a heap among the sheets on his bed.

"David, what can I do?" Nick asked, his voice muffled by the blankets, but the despair still evident. "I already have Jeff; I already have a husband. I cannot get married again."

David did not answer, to Nick's surprise, and when the brunette lifted his head, he found his manservant staring morosely at the floor.

"David?"

Slowly, his friend lifted his head but his expression was haggard and tired.

"I don't know," he said slowly, "Everything has become too much of a mess for me to think clearly."

"But surely there must be something that we can do?" Nick persisted, trying to cling to his last shred of hope.

David shrugged and shook his head.

"Too much blood has been shed over you and Jeff already," he said, "Surely that must be a bad omen? I can see the love between the two of you, but maybe fate has other ideas and you should marry Santana, as your parents want you to do."

Nick's mouth dropped open in surprise as he realised what David was suggesting; his best friend had just deserted him when he needed him most.

Stiffly, David got up and headed for the door.

"Consider your options carefully, Nick," he said, "Do not let love blind your judgement."

Nick refused to look at him as he left, but once he was gone, the brunette threw himself on the floor in a rage, shouting fiercely at the ceiling.

"You do not know what love is, David!" he practically screamed, "No, you have no idea. Well, I shall no longer confide my thoughts in you, no, I shall go elsewhere!"

* * *

And true to his word, Nick did go elsewhere; he made his way to Trent's cottage on the hillside and sought out the friar's counsel.

"You have to understand," he said, "I do like Santana, but only as a friend, and I know that she feels the same way. And I have Jeff now, and I know that she has someone else that she loves as well."

"But you say that your parents are claiming to have disowned you because you told them that you would not marry Santana?" Trent asked.

"Yes, but I fear that nothing will stop my father from forcibly dragging me to my own wedding; he shan't want to disappoint the Earl of Lopez or look like a fool in front of the rest of Verona. Can I not go to Mantua now and join Jeff there?"

Trent shook his head.

"It would not be possible," he said, "The whole of Verona knows by now that that was where he fled to, and so doubtless your parents are aware of that as well. I know for a fact that your father still wants revenge on Jeff for killing Hunter, and what if he sends a man there to spy on Jeff? Well, he will find you there too and report back to your family. Anyway, how would you be able to leave the city?"

"They let me come to see you."

"I am a friar," Trent said simply, "They cannot deny you the permission to see me, since I am supposed to be the one officiating your marriage to Santana."

Nick's heart sank.

"Is there truly nothing that you can do?" he asked weakly, "I thought that you would at least have a small suggestion to offer."

"I never said that I had nothing to give you," Trent corrected, "No, in fact, I do have something which I could let you have that might buy us some more time anyway."

He turned around to take something down from a shelf in the corner, and then he held it out for Nick to take.

"What is it?" Nick asked, turning the vial that he had just been given over in his hands.

"It's a drug," Trent explained, "If you drink it the night before the wedding, it will give the impression that you have died, for it stops your pulse and breath, as if you really had passed over. Then, twenty four hours later, you will awaken as if you had been sleeping, and all will be well. When you drink this, you will be found on the morning of the wedding and taken, as is tradition, to your family's tomb, and laid to rest there. I, meanwhile, shall contact Jeff, and he and I will come to fetch you and he can take you away to Mantua then; for your parents will no longer be looking for you and you can go without a worry."

"Really, do you think that it will work?"

"It's your only chance," Trent replied, "It is either try this, or resign yourself to marrying Santana on Thursday."

It did not take long for Nick to make up his mind as to what he was going to do.

"Alright, I will do it," he said, "And you will get a message through to Jeff?"

Trent nodded.

"I will," he promised, "Now, go and tell your father that you will marry Santana. Do not worry, Nick, for everything will be fine."

* * *

Nick returned from Trent's that afternoon, and after hiding the vial in a secret place for his future use, he went to seek out his father, to whom he needed to speak to urgently.

Reluctantly, his father agreed to speak with him, and when Nick entered, he noticed the way that Lord Duval's expression hardened when he caught sight of him.

Quickly deciding that an act of great repentance would be the best way to convince his father that he had changed his mind about the marriage, Nick made his way through the hall so that he ended up directly in front of Lord Duval, and he immediately knelt down at the man's feet.

"My lord," he said, bowing his head as respectfully as possible, "I was wrong to denounce your decision so unwisely earlier this morning. Instead, I have considered the mistake that I have made and have come here to beg for your forgiveness, for I will marry the Lady Santana."

Slowly, his father smiled.

"Stand up, Nicholas," he said, "You are forgiven. I knew that you would see sense eventually, and agree to this wedding." He paused in thought for a moment. "In fact, to celebrate this new willingness of yours, we shall bring the marriage day forward, henceforth, it shall be on Wednesday, tomorrow, instead. Yes, I shall sent a man to the friar immediately, and tell him of the news."

Nick nodded dutifully, but inside his mind was whirring: would a message still be got to Jeff in time? He quickly put his fears to rest though, because a messenger could get to Mantua in under a day, a few hours most likely, and so Trent had plenty of time to inform him.

"Now," Lord Duval turned and spoke to a servant at his side, "Fetch David, my son's manservant and have him escort Nicholas to his rooms so that they may begin the preparations for tomorrow."

The servant hurried from the room, and within minutes had returned with David.

"David, organise a suitable outfit for tomorrow for Nick," Lord Duval ordered the manservant, "For he is to marry to the Lady Santana without haste in the morning, and he must be ready as soon as possible."

David agreed that he would find something for Nick to wear, and then he and Nick were dismissed to retire to Nick's rooms.

They walked there in silence; although Nick had now found someone else to help him out of his predicament, he was still rather disappointed that his best friend had not wanted to aid him. It was because of this that he was not going to tell David about the plan that Trent had drawn up for him.

* * *

"Nicholas," Lady Duval opened her son's bedroom door, but did not enter, "Have you found something suitable to wear yet?"

Nick smiled at his mother, feeling slightly giddy with the knowledge that he would not have to wait too long to see Jeff again.

"Oh, yes, Mother," he said, "David has sorted everything out for me."

"Good," his mother nodded, "Is there anything else that needs to be sorted?"

Nick thought for a moment, but the only thing that he could think of was the fact that he needed to be alone when he took Trent's drug.

"I don't think so," he said, "Now, I think that I would like some time to myself."

He expected his mother to insist that someone stayed with him, but instead she agreed readily.

"Of course," she said, "And then you must rest, for you need it."

"Thank you, Mother," Nick said gratefully, subtly trying to usher them out of the door.

"Come, David," Lady Duval commanded the other man, "Let us leave Nicholas to sleep."

David nodded, and then they exited the room immediately. Nick breathed a sigh of relief and hurried over to where he had hidden the vial previously.

Removing it from its hiding place, he carried it carefully over to his bed and there he sat and stared at it for several moments.

"What if it fails me?" he wondered, "What if I wake tomorrow in time for the wedding? No, I must not think of those things." He shook his head. "But then what is this stuff?" He removed the stopper and sniffed it a little; it smelt of nothing. "What if it truly is poison that Trent would have me administer to myself in order for him to escape the punishment of having married me and Jeff before he should have done? No, Trent would not do such a thing; he is a friar!"

Nick lifted the vial to his lips, but did not drink the liquid.

"Then again, what if I should awaken in the tomb before Jeff is there to save me? Will I suffocate to death anyway in the dark and gloomy depths of that place where no light reaches? And what dwells down there anyway? The bones of my ancestors, and the newly buried corpse of my cousin, Hunter; such a place is this that I am to find myself in. They say that the spirits walk there at night, and howl something terrible; what if they raise the bodies of the dead? What about that of my cousin?"

His musings became increasingly more hysterical as he spoke, and in one fitful movement he lifted the vial to his mouth and swallowed the liquid in one gulp.

"Jeff," he whispered, before everything went black and he fell backwards onto his bed.

* * *

The next morning, David arrived at Nick's door whistling a happy tune. He was pleased that his friend had seen some sense and had realised his best option was to marry Santana, as his parents wished.

"Good morning, Nick!" he cried, throwing the door open, "It's the big day, my friend!"

He was met with silence, not even the usual sound of Nick's soft breathing when he was asleep could be heard.

"Nick?"

David looked around himself and spotted his friend lying prone on his bed.

"That's odd," he muttered, "He looks as though he fell asleep before he even had a chance to pull the covers up around himself."

Frowning, he made his way across the room to rouse his friend from his sleep. He stood beside the bed and shook Nick gently; usually the brunette was a light sleeper and could be awoken easily enough.

And so David got a shock when Nick just lay there limply.

"Nick?" he asked again, feeling rather concerned now, "Nick, wake up!"

Still no response.

Tentatively, he reached out and felt for a pulse on his friend's neck; it was a last resort and he did not truly think that there was anything seriously wrong.

Yet, he got the greatest shock of his life when he discovered that Nick had no pulse.

With a cry of surprise, he leapt from the bedside and halfway across the room.

"Dead!" he cried agitatedly, "Nick is dead! Oh, on everything that is good, why would this happen on a morning that should have been so happy? Nick, dead on his wedding day!"

His shouts brought Lady Duval running.

"What is all the fuss about?" she asked crossly as she entered, "Is Nick dressed yet?"

Numbly, David motioned to where Nick lay on his bed.

"He shall never be dressed in his wedding clothes," he said, "For he is dead."

"Dead?" Lady Duval shrieked, falling at Nick's side and cradling him awkwardly. "My child! My son! Oh, I have wronged him so often, and now he is dead!"

"Dead?" the voice of Lord Duval spoke as the man himself also entered the room. "What is with all this gloomy talk?"

"He's dead!" Lady Duval sobbed from her seat on the floor, "Our son is dead!"

Lord Duval was stunned in silence.

"We must send for the friar," he said, once he had recovered himself, "We must have the proper rites administered, and then he must join his cousin in the tomb. Oh, how sad is this; it should have been a wedding, yet it shall be a funeral."

* * *

Trent arrived a while later, having been summoned immediately, and he brought Santana with him, as she demanded to come to see Nick as well.

"It is a sad day," Trent said solemnly, playing his part dutifully, "That I should have to perform funeral rites instead of a marriage ceremony." He turned to Santana. "My lady, how this must be a greatly saddening event for you," he added.

Santana nodded stiffly, as she looked down at where Nick's body was being prepared to be transported to the Duvals' family tomb. It did upset her to know that the boy had died, for while she did not want to marry him, she had considered him a friend and therefore she wished that they could have both found freedom in some other manner.

"It is terrible," she said softly, and in a most un-Santana-like way. "He was a good friend; a good person. He did not deserve this, he deserved to find happiness." She paused. "In fact, I thought that he might already have done."

She thought back to the moment at the ball when she'd sent Nick over to talk to Jeff; she'd seen what had happened next and she'd known at once that the two were destined to be together. But then she remembered the fate of Jeff, and how he had been exiled.

"Such tragedy," she said, half to Trent and half to herself, "Let us hope that this string of bad luck on this family ends here."

* * *

In Mantua, the news from Verona travelled fast and it was not long before Jeff overheard two boys talking about it on the street. He dismissed it as speculation at first, in the desperate hope that the truth had been distorted and then they had been mistaken in their chattering.

Yet, it was confirmed by the arrival of his old servant, who often delivered messages to him from Verona.

"So, it is true?" Jeff asked.

"I am afraid so, sir," his servant replied, "Your boy was found dead this morning, the very day that he was supposed to wed the Lady Santana. No one knows how it happened; I reckon it was a broken heart."

After that, Jeff wandered the streets of Mantua like a lost soul, deciding what to do with himself now that his very reason for existence had been pulled from life so soon.

Without really noticing what he was doing, he found himself standing outside of an apothecary, where a wooden sign declared that they sold almost any herbal concoction that you could think of in the entire world.

Jeff stumbled in the shop, and approached the man at the counter, who regarded him curiously.

"I wish to join my loved one," the blonde boy said bluntly.

The man raised an eyebrow.

"And where might they be?" he asked.

"Cold and still in their family tomb," Jeff continued, just as bluntly, "For any price, I will buy what you can offer me."

"It is against the law of Mantua for me to dispense such a drug as a poison," the shop owner began, but Jeff cut him off.

"I will pay anything," he repeated, "And I shall be leaving the city, no one shall know that you have served me. Now, what would you have me pay?"

The man hesitantly named his price, and once Jeff had paid, he handed over a small bottle of a dark liquid.

"It would kill twenty men," the man said, "It will serve you well."

Jeff nodded gratefully, and stumbled back out of the shop.

"Now," he muttered to himself, "To Verona and back to Nick's side I shall go."

* * *

Trent had just returned to his cottage when there was an urgent pounding on his door. Rubbing his head as it throbbed from the shock of such a violent noise, he crossed the room and went to see who was calling upon it.

On the other side of the door stood another of the local friars, by the name of Jon, who he had previously sent to Mantua with the letter to Jeff explaining how Nick had taken a drug to make him appear dead, but that he was actually alive and the two of them would then go and rescue him.

"Friar Jon," Trent admitted the other man warmly into his home, "Have you a reply from Jeff? What does he say of our plan?"

Jon shook his head urgently.

"He says nothing," he said, "There has been a grave miscalculation on our part."

"What?" Trent asked, feeling panic rise within him, "What has happened?"

"I arrived at the gates of Mantua," Jon explained, "But because of a quarantine, I was not admitted and was sent away; Jeff has not received your letter, and so he knows nothing of the plan."

"No, no, no," Trent said, pacing worriedly, "This is not good. I must go to the tomb and when Nick has awoken, take him here to await Jeff's arrival. Meanwhile, you must take another letter to Mantua, and see if you can deliver it this time." He wrung his hands together. "Oh, we must hurry if everything is to go smoothly."

* * *

"Oh, Nick," Santana shook her head sadly, as she stood by the boy's grave and showed the grief that her father had told her was proper. She had not wanted to venture down into the dark depths of the tomb, but she felt she had to because it was Nick, after all. "How it should have come to this. I hope that this was not just so that you could have gotten out of marrying me, for would that have been too bad? I thought we had an arrangement? I let you see Blondie, and then you let me see Britt."

Suddenly, the sound of echoing footsteps over the cold stone startled her and she jumped in fear.

Who was that who was moving swiftly towards her?

"Who's there?" she called, hurriedly recovering herself, for Santana Lopez was not easily scared, and if she was, then she would never ever admit it to anyone at all.

Whoever it was did not answer, but as they rounded the corner, she caught sight of a flash of blonde hair and knew immediately who it was.

"Jeff?" she asked, frowning deeply, "You're not supposed to be here."

Jeff Sterling himself stood in front of her in that moment, a bright, flickering torch clasped in one hand, and a dagger in the other.

"Why should I not be here?" the boy demanded, his face determined and his eyes burning with a fierce fire. "What are you doing here?"

Santana looked from Jeff to Nick, and back again.

"I'm here because Nick was my friend," she said, "And you're here because you love him, I take it."

"How do you know that?" Jeff snapped defensively, "Is it any of your business?"

Santana raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I just know," she said, "I was the one that made him talk to you that night at the ball. And anyway, I count it as my business whenever someone like me has a problem with loving someone else."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, that Nick was in love with you, but you could not be together. I'm in love with my maidservant; I count us as of a similar kind."

Jeff bowed his head, a sign that he knew that his accusing tone had been inappropriate.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I would go now if I were you. Run as far away from here as possible with the girl that you love and start a new life together; love her since you still can."

Santana nodded gratefully.

"Thank you," she said, "I cannot imagine how you are feeling right now."

And with that, she took a light and hurried out of the tomb.

Jeff, meanwhile, crossed over to Nick's side and knelt beside him, gathering his limb form into his arms and cradling him securely.

"My love," he said softly, "If only you would open your eyes now and look at me. Oh, just to hear your voice once more and that I could tell you once more that I loved you. I did not tell you that enough times, and nor did we spend enough time together; in life, anyway, for we have forever in death to spend each and every passing hour in each other's company. I will never tire of being with you, Nick, even if it is in death, for you are like the light of life itself, and no one can compare to you."

A single tear slipped down his cheek and fell on Nick's jacket.

"I cannot bear to be separated from you any longer," he said, taking out the small bottle of poison and uncapping it. "I will join you, and Sebastian, and Hunter, all of you now. Till we meet on the other side, my darling Nick."

In one fluid movement, he swallowed the contents of the bottle and fell down on top of Nick's body.

Jeff Sterling was dead.

* * *

Nick's first thought was a wondering of where he was, and his second thought was of what the dead weight across his chest might have been. He lifted his hand to rub his eyes, but instead his hand met soft hair and a body.

A body.

Nick flew up into a sitting position so that the prone form fell into his lap.

A tuft of blonde hair caught his eye immediately.

"Jeff!" he cried in anguish, knowing immediately what fate had befallen his husband. "Oh, did Trent's message not get through to you?" He began crying. "You were supposed to rescue me, Jeff," he said, "Yet it is too late for rescuing either of us."

He picked up Jeff's body in his arms.

"It was poison, I guess," he said, seeing the fallen bottle on the floor of the tomb, "Let there be some still on your lips so that I may join you."

Tenderly, he kissed Jeff's lips, which still held a hint of warmth, but there was no poison, and Nick sat back in despair.

"What to do?" he wondered, "I must join my love in another life, for there is nothing left for me here."

Looking around wildly, he saw the dagger that was still clutched in one of the blonde's hands.

"Oh, convenient dagger," Nick cried, seizing the weapon in one hand. "I will see you again, Jeff, in just a short while. Oh, I love you!"

And clasping the blade with both hands, he plunged it deep into his chest.

It was over instantly, and he fell across Jeff so that their bodies were entwined.

Nick Duval was also dead.

* * *

Just moments later, an officer of the watch, having been summoned to the tomb after complaints of a disturbance, discovered the two deceased lovers, and sent immediately for Thad.

The Prince arrived shortly afterwards, with the grieving party of the Sterlings, the Duvals and Trent.

Both families broke down openly and wept for their dead children, who though supposedly apart in life, were now together in death.

"Pray, could someone explain this tragic occurrence?" Thad asked, and Trent stepped forward.

"Here lies Jeff Sterling and Nick Duval," he began, "Such a love between two parties has there never been seen before, yet the feud of their families conspired to keep them apart. And now, in death, they are finally as one, where they can be for eternity. Both confided in me, I can give more details if necessary."

"No, that will be all," Thad said, "There has been enough bloodshed over this feud and the simple truth of their love is all that is needed. What say you, Duval, and you, Sterling?"

It was Lord Sterling who spoke first.

"We must be brothers now," he said solemnly, "For our children and our kinsmen have given their lives for our quarrels when they were not theirs to give."

He held out a hand, which Lord Duval took.

"An end," the other man said, "An end to the feud which has parted us for years, but now must be ceased."

Thad nodded.

"You have seen the error of your ways," he bowed his head, "It is a tragic tale, nevertheless."

"Never was there a love so true," Wes' clear voice rang out, echoing on the stone, "As that of Nick and Jeff; these two."

* * *

**A/N: I seriously hope that I did that ending justice...and the last line is supposed to rhyme, since the original does but I couldn't use that since neither 'Nick' nor 'Jeff' rhymes with 'woe' :)**

_**magiclover222**_** - thank you for the prompt, and I hope that this story was good enough :)**

**Thank you for reading, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought :)**


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